Newport Richie wrote:Maybe this has been noted already, but to all those squawking about male coaches not understanding the mentality of female runners with regard to certain things, nowhere in the blog is the sex of the coach specified. The language is intentionally nonspecific on this point.

She does specificy that Coach is male, if you read closely:

"Coach shook his head in disgust. “I’m going to arrange a mandatory team meeting for tomorrow. These girls need to get their priorities straight.”"

Man this really is the official LetsRun soap opera. I bet she's got an infection in her foot from the blisters. Redness, soreness, throbbing, a fever. Yikes! More doctor's stuff is on the way. But I agree, I was definitely expecting a regrettable hookup with a sleazy guy. There's been some sexual pressure building up for a while, she's just GOTTA relieve it at some point!

Sully's runner wrote:Actually, I think it is starting to drag. It is so depressing and getting a bit boring. Wish she had a bit of happiness in her life.

Agree - I think the fact that she's taking many days between posts is part of it. But ignoring that, earlier in the story major problems were happening, like the stress fracture, ammenorhea (sp?) and a real dick of a coach. Now it's "I have a blister" "My jeans don't quite fit" and "my roommate ate out of my peanut butter" and in the roommate's case, "this one cowboy wouldn't #%&@ me!"

It just seems like its becoming real low-stakes stuff, which by itself is okay (lots of great stories have been written about similar things), but it's a disappointment considering the high-stakes stuff that preceded it, and which don't seem to have a natural conclusion forthcoming. At least for me, that earlier stuff is why I got into the blog.

I also would like to know more about her thought-process on the potential transfer.

In total fairness to the author, however, this a strange way of seeing a story unfold. If this were a book and I was thinking "get on with it," I could keep reading, but as an active blog we're all stuck watching the progress of the story as she writes it - which in a book would have been done behind closed doors, obviously. I plan to keep reading, hoping that we'll have some answers to the big problems eventually.

zamboomba wrote:Agree - I think the fact that she's taking many days between posts is part of it. But ignoring that, earlier in the story major problems were happening, like the stress fracture, ammenorhea (sp?) and a real dick of a coach. Now it's "I have a blister" "My jeans don't quite fit" and "my roommate ate out of my peanut butter" and in the roommate's case, "this one cowboy wouldn't #%&@ me!"

On the other hand, perhaps the emphasis on the minor problems is the author's way of showing just how depressed she is; how EVERYTHING feels "off." Just a thought.

the blister may be random, but if it is an infection, that can be another symptom of disordered eating/ malnutrition. more easily susceptible to infections. i agree with most here, she needs some good news soon!

zamboomba wrote:Agree - I think the fact that she's taking many days between posts is part of it. But ignoring that, earlier in the story major problems were happening, like the stress fracture, ammenorhea (sp?) and a real dick of a coach. Now it's "I have a blister" "My jeans don't quite fit" and "my roommate ate out of my peanut butter" and in the roommate's case, "this one cowboy wouldn't #%&@ me!"

On the other hand, perhaps the emphasis on the minor problems is the author's way of showing just how depressed she is; how EVERYTHING feels "off." Just a thought.

Could very well be - in fact, I think that's pretty likely. Earlier in this thread there were comparisons to "The Bell Jar" which did something similar. I'm hoping that's what it is instead of just some whining (and really, "The Bell Jar" seemed to descend into pointless whining at times too - one's mileage may very.) Like I said, we'll have to wait and see.

Shadonna: I have no doubt she reads this thread. She's almost certainly laughing at us.

Personally, I like the direction she is taking. Jennifer is a great character. I used to think she was kind of sweet. But now she seems sometimes awful. Jennifer is striving for male attention. Maybe this will fuel her eating disorder. The author is great because she is crazy but also really steady, despite her environment. She makes me want to know her, and hug her. I love it. Keep it up.

How about a high-school coach who regularly weighed his female athletes? This is the sort of thing that wouldn't fly these days but seemed pretty prevalent in the 1980s, when the runner who wrote the following (non-fictional) account qualified for two Kinney National Championships and set a record for the Pikes Peak Ascent at age 16.

"The relationship between me and my coach felt strained, but I did as he asked, usually. I had learned that rest was not a bad thing. I felt it was important to take days off even though my coach was a bigger fan of easy days. Unfortunately, my days off would sometimes lead to binges and occasional purges as well. I constantly felt fat at just around 100 pounds. My weigh-ins caused me growing anxiety, and I sensed that my coach was concerned about me getting too fat. The occasional purges not only helped the weight stay off, they allowed for some occasional relief from the pressure. I was a more relaxed runner, and this unhealthy eating regime did not deter me from having a stellar season. I set a course record on every course I ran and won state, becoming the first girl in Colorado to ever win state twice in a row. During the off season I entered a few road races and ran an incredible 35:15 10k, setting a course record in the Run for the Zoo Race in Denver. After a night of stress-related binging and purging or, in my case just eating what others would consider normal amounts and purging, I won the Midwestern Championships and again qualified for Nationals in California. I was however starting to feel more fatigue as the overly long season of racing dragged on. I ended up seventh at nationals and felt ready for a break. Unfortunately, track season was right around the corner so my break was much too short."

Perhaps the mundane recent posts reflects that sort of post-nationals pre-track feeling during the lull in the college season, especially for the injured runner. Running at this point seems so irrelevant, so far off.

One of two things will happen:

1) this infection gets worse and bad stuff happens

or

2) she jumps on to another mundane story, illustrating the "mundane-ness" of her life at that moment.

Also I think there is going to be more family drama during winter break.

Finally, NO POSTS since Tuesday?! Come on! I'm on the edge of my seat here!

I think the story has become subject to the observer's paradox. By commenting on the plot and the motives of the writer, who obviously reads this thread, we've all been influencing the outcome in some way.

By the time track season started I had already run under 11 minutes for the two mile indoors. There was no real indoor season for high-school athletes, so my coach had me run some open races at the university indoor track meets. As our own high school track season wore on, my general fatigue grew. I was undefeated going into the state meet, and my coach was determined to have a new state record in the two-mile for us. What should have been a walk in the park turned into a long, clumsy jog around the track. It started the day before states. I was too fat. I knew it. I tipped the scale at a whopping 102.

Fearful of the added weight, I asked my coach if the one or two extra pounds would affect my race the next day. “It will probably slow you down,” he said. I had no idea how to take that statement. I felt so guilty I threw up what I ate that night. I was so distressed by the time the race actually rolled around the following day that I had lost sight of my goal -- setting a state record. From the gun, I got out in front and just settled. I ran comfortably. The battle in my head raged on; come on, pick it up vs. just finish the race and be done with it.

About three-fourths of the way through, in mid-stride, just as I was heading into the turn, I caught sight of my coach and I knew I would have to face him; would have to face myself -- my fatness, my apathy and my failure. I thought about the woman from NC State who had run off the track midway through nationals in the 10,000 meters. She just ran off the track, jumped off a bridge and tried to kill herself. She ended up surviving. She lost the use of her legs though and is confined to a wheelchair. In an example of bitter irony, she claims she is happier now than when she was under all that pressure and stuck in her obsessive training.

By the time my foot hit the ground I felt only detachment. “F*** it, I’m tired,” I thought. I tried everything possible to pick up the pace, but had nothing to give. My body would not respond and my mind wavered. I finished in over 11 minutes and when I faced the man who had led me to greatness while slowly assisting my suicide, I saw the disappointment in his face. I felt like an absolute failure. I had still won, but my perception was that I totally lost in his eyes and as a result in my own eyes as well. I still had one last race to get through in the summer, a two-mile national cross-country race. I finished fourth in another apathetic effort. I had reached full burn-out at age 18.